


No Man is an Island

by faikitty



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Caretaking, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3100850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faikitty/pseuds/faikitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily dies. Myra leaves. Sebastian drinks. And Joseph takes on the role of caretaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Man is an Island

Lily dies. Myra leaves. Sebastian drinks.

And Joseph takes on the role of caretaker.

He won’t—can’t—let his partner destroy himself. It was bad enough for _Joseph_ when Lily died, made worse by Myra leaving, because he cared so much about the two girls. He couldn’t bear to lose Sebastian too. And he _knows_ it was even more difficult for Sebastian. He never saw the man cry; the closest was hearing his broken voice over the phone (Joseph doubts he’ll ever be able to forget that sound).

But grief manifests through more than just tears. Myra threw herself into her work, while Sebastian threw himself into a bottle.

It seems to work for them both at first. They continue to eat lunch together, go home after work, share a laugh and a sip of coffee from the same mug… But it’s not all right. Even as Myra’s public face remains professional and Sebastian’s apathetic, Joseph has the sinking feeling that something is wrong, something deeper than the loss of their daughter. He was always privy to their lovers’ spats before (Sebastian would often grow angry with Myra for working too hard with a young child at home, and Myra would yell at him for being so traditional—things like that). But since Lily’s death, there have been no more fights. It’s as if there’s nothing.

And then Myra goes missing, and there really is nothing.

Joseph knows he could never take her place. He doesn’t even _want_ to; Myra’s place in Sebastian’s heart was one that belonged only to her. The same is true for Lily, but that goes without saying. Joseph doesn’t know if he has a place in it at all, but because Sebastian has a place in _his_ , he does everything he can to knock the other man back into a routine. It’s difficult not to hurt his pride. Joseph can’t outwardly offer to do anything for him. But when Joseph takes on a bit more paperwork than usual or brings an extra cup of coffee that he bought “accidentally,” Sebastian doesn’t argue. Joseph drags him shopping for groceries sometimes, using the excuse that he lives alone and it’s easier having another set of hands, and after they get back to his apartment he can usually convince Sebastian to let him cook something for them to share as thanks.

It takes a few tries, but Joseph even eventually convinces Sebastian to go out with him, Connelly, and Juli. They take things slow. The first time, they all go to a bar since it’s where Sebastian seems most at ease these days. The next time, it’s to a cookout at Connelly’s house with numerous other coworkers (all the more important given how Joseph knows Sebastian forgets to eat when he’s like this).

Before long it becomes all too commonplace for Sebastian to show up to such events drunk, but at least he’s going out. Many people in his situation would lock themselves away, would have done so ages ago. And he’s never drunk at work; Joseph will give him that.

But that still doesn’t mean it’s okay for him to kill himself softly.

Between the drinking, the smoking, and the reckless behavior, Sebastian will be dead within the next 10 years. Joseph, on the other hand, will not be, and he has little intention of continuing his career on the force without Sebastian as his partner. He needs Sebastian, even if Sebastian doesn’t need him.

* * *

 

The day Joseph follows Sebastian into the stairwell during the older man’s smoke break, he doesn’t intend to start a fight. All he really wants to do is have a conversation with Sebastian about how he needs to take a break everyone now and then and maybe ask him if he wants to see the new movie coming out this weekend.

Things go south quickly.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much” is the first thing Joseph says, and that’s already a mistake, obvious by how Sebastian takes a long, slow drag and turns tired eyes on him. Joseph wrinkles his nose as the older man exhales smoke.

“Did you come here to lecture me?” he asks dryly.

Joseph shakes his head quickly. “No. Of course not. I just worry about you.” Which, again, is something he shouldn’t have said.

“Worry about me?” Sebastian’s brow quirks as he repeats it. “Why would you worry about me?”

Joseph searches for something decent to say, trying to find some way of side stepping around Sebastian’s feelings without letting him know what he’s doing. But he hesitates a second too long, and Sebastian’s eyes narrow with understanding.

“Of course. That was a stupid question,” he says quietly, taking another drag from his cigarette and staring at the dirt on the concrete wall. The circles under his eyes are just as dark as the dirt, Joseph realizes.

“No, I just— You’re my friend. That’s all.”

“Is it really?”

“What else would I worry about you for?”

He means it as a rhetorical question, but Sebastian takes it like a challenge. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’ve lost my entire family. Or did you really think I was oblivious to the fact that you and our coworkers have invited me to more events in the past few months than in all my years on the force combined?”

Sebastian doesn’t normally talk this much. He usually retreats inside himself, stays quiet at things like this in favor of letting a bottle speak for him—and when he stands, pressing in close to Joseph’s face, the younger man breathes in the faint smell of whiskey along with the odor of cigarettes (the same cigarette he crushes against the wall near Joseph’s head). That would explain it. Joseph couldn’t have chosen a worse day to make him angry, accident though it was.

“You have more free time now,” Joseph says, trying to make his voice soothing. “We like being with you. _I_ like being with you. I like going to the movies with you, and having dinner with you, and—“ _And this is growing unnervingly similar to a confession, so I ought to be quiet_.

Joseph sees the flash of anger in his partner’s eyes before it comes from his mouth.

“Stop treating me like a child,” Sebastian growls at him, difficulty in keeping his voice low visible in the tight lines of his face. Joseph is suddenly aware of how much _bigger_ Sebastian is than most people, especially when he’s standing over him with eyes that glint dangerous. But to his credit, Joseph doesn’t flinch, only stares up at Sebastian over the rims of his glasses. “You, Kidman, Connelly… You all must think I’m a fucking idiot. I _know_ you only invite me to things because you want to keep an eye on me, but I’m not some innocent little kid that needs watching over. I know you don’t even want me there. Why would you?”

“That’s not true,” Joseph starts, “we—“

“You think I don’t see the looks you give me. Like I’m some god damned delicate little thing that needs to be protected.”

“We don’t—“

“None of you could understand. You haven’t lost a _wife_ , you haven’t lost a _daughter_ , you haven’t lost _everyone_ that was fucking important to you!”

Everyone?

“Enough!” Joseph yells, and the sudden loss of his normal calm is so unexpected that Sebastian _does_ stop talking. Joseph closes his eyes for a few seconds to steady himself before continuing. “Enough. You act like you’re the only one who has suffered, Sebastian. You forget that Lily and Myra were important to people other than you. I was there when Lily was born. I was Myra’s friend. I _know_ this hurts you worse than it hurts me, but don’t act like you’re the only one who loved them. Because I loved them too.” His voice cracks on the last word, and _no_ , he’s _not_ going to cry. “We aren’t treating you like a child. We’re treating you like a man who has been through something tragic because we all know that you _have_. Don’t act like you’re alone in this. Please.”

All of Sebastian’s muscles go taut, and Joseph thinks for a moment his partner is going to hit him. His eyes widen as he flinches and braces for the pain, for a blow he _could_ block but won’t because he knows Sebastian _needs_ this.

But the blow doesn’t come.

Sebastian turns at the last second to punch the wall instead, and the sickening crunch of bones breaking under concrete almost makes Joseph wish he _had_ hit him instead. Sebastian’s arm stays straight for a few seconds as if his fist has been glued to the wall. Joseph can feel the blood drip down the surface to where his shoulder is still pressed there too, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t even really breathe. Sebastian is breathing heavily enough for them both anyway. Then his eyes meet Joseph’s, bloodshot and pained for a million unspoken reasons, and he turns and walks away.

Joseph wants to go after him, he does, but he _can’t_. His feet feel like they’ve been weighed down with lead. He has to trust that someone else will get Sebastian medical attention. He doubts his partner would let him help even if he tried to follow. Instead, Joseph just closes his eyes, evens his breathing, and returns inside and acts as if nothing happened. He heads back to his office and closes the door harder than necessary before settling in his seat with a sigh.

Sebastian, apparently, is quite good at attracting the same type of people. Like Myra, Joseph buries himself in his work.

* * *

 

“Hey.”

Joseph is asleep when the sound of Sebastian’s low voice hits his ears. He hadn’t _meant_ to fall asleep, but it’s dark out, late night or early morning, he can’t be sure, and he must have passed out without realizing it. The document he was filling out when he drifted off is stuck to his cheek and his glasses are pushed crooked on his nose He swipes away the paper, adjusts his glasses, and lifts his chin in greeting, too worn out to say anything and reluctant to start another fight.

“I brought you coffee,” Sebastian says, holding out a cup, and Joseph recognizes a peace offering when he sees one. So he takes it, to ease Sebastian’s and his own guilt and, hopefully, to wake him up more. Sebastian pulls a chair up to the desk and takes a seat without being asked, making it perfectly clear that he’s not going anywhere until they have a conversation neither of them wants.

Joseph shakes his head when his partner opens his mouth. “It’s alright, Seb. We don’t have to talk about it.” And they don’t, because both were in the wrong and both were in the right and it doesn’t matter anyway.

“No. You were right. I’ve been too wrapped up in my own head to remember Myra and Lily were important to other people too.” Sebastian hides the bitterness in his voice at their names with a sip of his own coffee, and Joseph waits. “I know they were. I just forget because of how damn much they mattered to me.”

“I know. It’s okay,” Joseph assures him. “You loved them more than anyone. I can’t blame you for being angry.” Suddenly worried he’s being too condescending again, he goes on. “None of us are _trying_ to treat you like a child, but if it seems like we are, just… say something. Don’t stop going places with us.”

“I won’t,” Sebastian promises, and Joseph recognizes the gruffness in his voice as embarrassment. “I don’t know how the hell you’re able to still worry about me,” he admits. “Any of you, but especially _you_ , Joseph. If I were you, I’d have abandoned me as a lost cause a long time ago.”

“It’s because I don’t want to lose you,” Joseph murmurs. At Sebastian’s confused glance, he sighs. “We’re detectives. I’ve worked cases like this. I’ve gone into a house to see blood all over the wall and a bullet in a man’s head after he went through a tragedy. I don’t know how I’d go on if I found you like that.”

Sebastian stiffens. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know. But I’m sure the men I’ve seen who have killed themselves thought that too, and that’s what worries me the most. You say you won’t, but you _could_. You may have lost everyone important to you, but I haven’t. Not yet. And I don’t intend to.” Joseph takes a big gulp of his coffee; it burns his throat, but that’s almost a good thing right now.

“I didn’t mean everyone,” Sebastian mutters after a moment’s pause.

“Seb—“

“You’re important too. I hope you know that.” Joseph doesn’t quite know what to say to that, and Sebastian probably prefers it that way. Sebastian isn’t much for anything touchy feely (Joseph is, even though he likes to think himself above it). That just makes it all the more meaningful. Even without talking, the look Joseph gives him seems to embarrass him even more than before. Sebastian takes another drink, accidentally using his injured hand in his hastiness, and he grimaces at the pain.

Joseph reaches out to hold the injured hand in his, pressing lightly at the fingers as if searching for an injury that’s obvious. He can’t admit he’s shy to hold hands with his partner, after all, especially when that’s not even what they’re _really_ doing. “Who patched you up?” he asks as his fingertips dip under the edge of the gauze and tape on Sebastian’s fist. “They didn’t do a very good job with it.”

Sebastian grimaces and looks at his coffee as if it just appeared suddenly in front of him. “I did.”

Joseph blinks a few times. “You did.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital and tell them I broke my hand punching a wall.”

“Say you were fighting someone and they dodged then.” One look at Sebastian’s face tells him that’s not likely to go over well either, and he sighs and drops his partner’s hand. “At least let me fix it for now.”

Sebastian’s gaze returns to Joseph’s face for a few seconds, and then he nods. Joseph vanishes, returns with a first aid kit, and carefully takes Sebastian’s hand, undoing the mess of gauze Sebastian has slapped over it. It may have stopped the bleeding—and firmly attached itself to his fist in the process—but that’s about all it did. “This will hurt,” Joseph warns, but Sebastian only leans back, completely relaxed.

“I trust you.”

That means more than anything.

Joseph is gentle beyond measure as he puts burning saline and ointment on the cuts in his partner’s knuckles, and Sebastian doesn’t react to the pain, doesn’t move an inch even when Joseph wraps up his hand so tightly it’s nearly immobile.

“There,” he says, releasing Sebastian’s hand as if it burned him, because otherwise he knows he would hold onto it for too long. “But you still need to get it looked at by a professional.”

“Fine, fine,” Sebastian agrees, clenching and unclenching his fist to test how much he can move it like this. Then he looks up at Joseph again. “Thanks.”

Joseph just nods. “Want to help me get groceries tomorrow? _After_ you go to the hospital,” he amends, a small smile playing at his lips, and Sebastian grins back.

“Only if you’ll cook dinner afterwards.”


End file.
